


The Good Things that Come

by egreed



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Inspired by Art, M/M, Oral Sex, roadrat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9553694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egreed/pseuds/egreed
Summary: Inspired by DCQTrash's art and head canons. Their work is seriously amazing, and if you somehow missed their blog go check it out!DCQ TrashOriginal Image





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by DCQTrash's art and head canons. Their work is seriously amazing, and if you somehow missed their blog go check it out!
> 
>  
> 
> [DCQ Trash](http://www.dcqtrash.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [ Original Image](http://dmsmut.tumblr.com/image/154360690841)

Junkrat woke with a start. The instantaneous burst of light stung his eyes as they flashed open. His heart didn’t race like it used to, but an aching anxiety forced him to remember where he was. Junkrat wasn’t in the habit of waking up in the same place every morning. 

He took deep breaths through his nose. Left toes curling, his cracked, yellow nails caught on the bare mattress: their mattress. Every breath was laced with the comforting scent of his partner, and it rooted him in the present. Nestling his body into Roadhog’s, Junkrat found relief in the feeling of familiar flesh. 

He wanted to soak in the sensation, but between the festering ache in his leg and his need to check the windows, he was antsy to get up. Junkrat’s shoulders popped as he wriggled to reach his prosthesis. The joints were loud, and he could hear Roadhog stirring awake behind him. 

“’M gonna put on a pot. We’re outta ginger, so no tea,” he threw over his shoulder while staring out the nearest window. He was too low, too far away to get a good look at the surroundings and urgency started to claw at his chest. 

Junkrat’s fingers fumbled, struggling into the prosthetic one handed. The stillness of the room clenched his throat. He couldn’t hear the outside world, see the landscape, know if someone was there. The walls that were supposed to protect him started closing around him, boxing him in. He just needed to get a good look out that god damned window. 

Leg finally assembled, Junkrat braced himself on the nightstand and stood. Emptiness. Impassive sand was the only thing beyond the cracked glass. Junkrat’s chest ached as a shaky breath slithered past his lips. He clapped the dust off his trembling hand and reached for his mischief arm; the orange prosthetic he wore when he was up to no good. 

It felt like the kind of day he might need it. 

He grabbed some pills out of his satchel and held them under his tongue. They hadn’t been able to swipe any of the good stuff last time they were out, but they helped with the pain in his calf a little bit. He’d take a little bit over nothing at all.

In the nightstand they kept several sachets of instant coffee that came in the CR5Ms they saved when they had a hard time getting food, but the coffee was running low. Junkrat decided to grab a sports drink powder for himself instead. _Leave the coffee for Roadie._ Tropical flavor. Maybe he could pretend the heat outside was the kind people actually liked. 

Outside Junkrat dunked his cup into their water reservoir. The bulky medicine scraped against his throat, and his mouth watered at the bitter drink. Junkrat grimaced and scanned the horizon again. He couldn’t decide if he was afraid someone would come looking for them, or if he wanted them to. 

The house they settled in stood abandoned for countless years, chronicled in the thick dust. Some poor bushie must have gone on a trip- and never came back. Most of anything useful had already been looted by the time Junkrat and Roadhog claimed the gutted home, but they scraped up enough furniture and made enough slap dash renovations to make it feel lived in. 

As Junkrat got the fire started he could hear the sound of the modified doorway gently creaking open behind him. He spat out a chuckle, thinking he might need to sacrifice another arm to give it some elbow grease if they couldn’t pilfer anything to slick the hinges. It’d be worth it, though. Junkrat made it to accommodate Roadhog. If there was anything he could do to make their lives a little easier, he’d do it, even if it was just making the doorway a little wider for Roadie. 

Roadhog came out wearing the patchwork shirt Junkrat made for him a few weeks ago. It was ragged, just like the door. “Improvised.” But it kept the sun off his back. Roadhog , at least, pretended to like it.

In his hand the foil packets of food glistened in the harsh sunlight. 

“Wot we got today?” Junkrat asked, trying to fill up some of the space with noise- though his words dissipated in the barren landscape. The scrubby shrubs hissed in the wind, and the small fire cackled back.

“Still got some baked beans left,” Roadhog replied, reading through the gourmet menu. “Chicken.”

“Make whichever. Should be enough water in the pot.”

Junkrat groped for any thoughts, any words he could pour out. It wasn’t normal for him to be this quiet and he knew it. He knew Roadhog knew it too. 

Junkrat heaved himself up from his milk crate throne and stomped a few paces out. The silence crawled on his skin like a bug. Jamming his zipper open, he scowled, pissing into the wind.

Junkrat furrowed his eyebrows, surveying the carnage of his own body. Metal arm, metal leg. Tiny cock. Scars like crevasses painted across his body. For someone so tall, there wasn’t much of him.

Instant coffee and elbow grease. Shit meds and patchwork. Not luxuries, for certain, but they were better than nothing. Maybe that’s what he was, too…

Reluctance stiffened his muscles as he limped back. Junkrat plopped his sore ass on the milk crate, eating without thinking.

“Good beans,” he mumbled.

“That was the chicken,” Roadhog said, concern painted across his face. The worry behind his eyes made Junkrat’s stomach knot. 

The rehydrated mystery food wasn’t helping, either. 

“You…sure?” Junkrat fretted at a chunk with a bent fork. It couldn’t have been _that_ expired. His scalp stung as he started pulling out hairs. 

“What’s bothering you, Rat?” Roadhog asked as he grabbed Junkrat’s wrist firmly, stopping him from yanking any more hair out. Junkrat ripped his wiry arm back, running his dirty fingers through what was left of his hair. 

“Nothin’. ‘M fine,” his voice cracked. 

“I can tell—“

“I ain’t cryin’. Physically impossible, actually,” Junkrat interrupted, smearing his hand across his eyes that left sticky tracks across his face. “Don’t even have tear ducts. Birth defect,” he rambled, pointing to the reddened flesh. 

Roadhog pursed his lips. Junkrat could rattle on and on about nothing in particular most of the time, but Roadhog was quiet. He had to think about what he’d say before he could say it. 

Junkrat looked away, swallowing hard around the swelling frustration in his throat. Every time he thought he could choke it out his mouth clamped back shut.

“Do you ever think about being with someone else? Someone more,” Junkrat flung a filthy flourish, gesturing to his body, shattering his silence, “More?” 

Before Roadhog could reply, he sputtered on.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame ye if ya didn’t want to stay.” Junkrat hunched forward, eyes downcast. “Don’t know if I’d stay with me, ya know?”

“Do you think anyone can make me do something I don’t want to?” Roadhog asked, after some deliberation. Junkrat eyed him. Roadhog was over two meters of brick shithouse and mean. A bitter half smile fractured across Junkrat’s face.

“No, I don’t suppose. I just don’t feel like,” Junkrat hesitated, trying to piece his thoughts together. “How’d ya get stuck with me? I mean, I know how we met an all, but why? Why are ya roughin’ it with me? You coulda settled down with anyone, why settle for _me?_ ”

Roadhog scooted himself behind Junkrat and began working his thumbs through the knots in his back. 

“Good things come to those who wait, Jamison.”

With shoulders unraveling under the gentle pressure, Junkrat’s face started to soften. He felt guilty about being babied like this, but the sincerity in the relaxing circles trailing down his body felt so good. 

“Besides,” Roadhog’s deep voice rumbled behind him, “If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t bother with this,” he said, placing a tender kiss on the back of Junkrat’s neck. His nerves lit up like silver fulminate. 

“Now that right there just ain’t fair,” Junkrat giggled, squirming. The cheeky bastard knew his neck was sensitive. 

Hefting himself up, Roadhog held the door open. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best. Maybe they didn’t have much, but it was better than Junkrat’s life before Roadhog. Junkrat followed him in, letting the shade of shelter soothe the heat of his sun-lashed skin.

Still at a loss for what to say, Junkrat leaned his forehead against Roadhog’s chest.

“Sorry,” Junkrat mumbled into him. Placing one knuckle under his chin, Roadhog lifted Junkrat’s gaze to meet his.

“Don’t be sorry,” he commanded. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

Junkrat pursed his lips, barring them from trembling, and nodded. Roadhog didn’t exactly grant everyone the milk of human kindness. Thankful, Junkrat brought his mouth to Roadhog’s. Sparks lit up behind his closed eyes. 

Returning the kiss softly, Roadhog put one strong hand at the base of his neck, cradling it. Junkrat’s head started to spin. The sparks oxidized, flames growing bigger, hotter. His skin erupted into a minefield of gooseflesh. 

Junkrat laughed a nervous titter as Roadhog took his bottom lip into his teeth. The sweet sting of the bite ignited a fire inside him, swelling and billowing. Insatiable. 

Junkrat’s mind was slowing down. He didn’t have to think, didn’t have to worry. Just feel. His breath hitched as Roadhog trailed indulgent kisses down his chest. Junkrat braced himself against the nightstand, dizzy with heady arousal. 

Roadhog’s teeth grazed against Junkrat’s hip. He groaned deep in his throat as Roadhog pulled at his shorts.

“No fair,” Junkrat interrupted as he grabbed a fistful of Roadhog’s shirt. “Yer still wearin’ yours.” He tugged it off and flung it across the room. His shorts and Roadhog’s pants followed. 

Self-conscious, Junkrat hesitated. He still wasn’t used to sharing his body this way. Roadhog saw him naked dozens of times, but this was _different_. He wanted to please, to _impress_. 

Roadhog kissed reassuring praises onto Junkrat’s stomach before hoisting him up to meet his lips. Supporting himself on the nightstand, Junkrat threaded his fingers into Roadhog’s hair with his free hand. The feeling of Roadhog’s stubble tickling his inner thighs made his head spin. 

“Oh, Roadie,” Junkrat mumbled on a husky breath. The nerves that set him off hid like tripwires in his skin, and Roadhog ignited them one by one. Teeth chattering, Junkrat’s toes curled as Roadhog took him into his mouth. 

Junkrat’s face flushed, ears burning. The heat spread across his chest as Roadhog swirled his tongue over the head in slow, gratifying circles. A deep ache swelled in him as he savored the feeling. Biting his lip Junkrat rolled his hips as the building desire gripped him. 

The fire spread in his gut. Doubling over, Junkrat curled his toes. His breath caught each time Roadhog’s tongue hit him just right. Eyes clamped shut, Junkrat let the feeling consume him. 

He could feel himself getting close. Connecting his hazy thoughts he remembered how to speak.

“Come on, Mako…go a bit fasta—” Junkrat was overcome with the frantic sensation of Roadhog bringing him right to the edge. 

Roadhog drew him in, grazing his teeth with the perfect amount of pressure. Junkrat groaned loud and satisfied as the spurts of lust hitched through him like electrical shocks. Head lolloping, Junkrat slumped into Roadhog, drained. 

Feeling his body gently descending Junkrat tried to find his balance on a shaky leg. Roadhog held him by the waist, supporting him.

“Yer too good to a dirty old man like me,” Junkrat halfheartedly teased as he ran his fingers through Roadhog’s ponytail. 

“Old?” Roadhog scoffed, cocking an eyebrow to match his crooked grin. 

“Oh yeah, ancient!” Junkrat went on, pulling Roadhog back to the bed. “Practically dead.” He wheezed an exaggerated ‘oof’ as he flopped onto the creaky springs. Roadhog joined him, a rumbling chuckle bouncing in his chest.

Slinging an arm around his neck, Junkrat pulled Roadhog into another kiss. He let his hand trail down the back of Roadhog’s neck and across his chest. Nothing fair in letting himself hog all the fun. Mouth preoccupied, he let his fingers tease around Roadhog’s nipples. 

Surging forward, Junkrat nipped at Roadhog’s neck as he clutched greedily at the larger man’s chest. Hearing Roadhog’s breath catch egged him on. Emboldened, he trailed his hand down, gripping Roadhog’s cock. His thumb couldn’t meet his fingers around the intimidating girth. 

Roadhog began to buck his hips and Junkrat less than gracefully slithered between his legs. A large bead of precome pearled on the thick, bulbous head. Dropping his jaw, Junkrat tried to take in as much of Roadhog as he could. 

Peeking a glance up, Junkrat admired the faces Roadhog made as he pleasured him. He could feel Roadhog pulsing in his mouth. Junkrat kneaded his fingers into the soft mound of flesh of Roadhog’s groin as he swept over every morsel of thickness with his tongue.

Junkrat trailed sloppy kisses from head to base, letting his tired jaw relax. He loved Roadhog’s impressive size, but his jaw could only take so much. 

Junkrat could feel the blanket bunching, clutched in Roadhog’s massive hands as he neared his orgasm. Eager to please, Junkrat took him back into his mouth, sucking hard and fast. 

Proud of himself, a well-pleased chuckle poured out of Junkrat as Roadhog spilled over. A heaving, satisfied sigh escaped Roadhog as Junkrat cleaned them up, a naughty glint in his eyes. Shimmying up, he rested his chin on Roadhog’s belly. 

“Good things come ta those who wait, eh?” he cooed up at Roadhog. He bit his lip to keep from smirking.

“That’s not what it means and you know it,” Roadhog chuckled, rolling his eyes. He rested his hands on Junkrat’s back, holding him close. 

“Sure, sure,” Junkrat giggled, nuzzling into the lettering of Roadhog’s tattoo.


End file.
